


Feed My Soul Milk And Honey

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Breastfeeding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fertility Issues, Infantilism, Mommy Issues, Mommy Kink, Non-Sexual Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia never missed a mother's love until she felt it for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feed My Soul Milk And Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Femslash Today's Cold Snap Porn Battle](http://femslash-today.livejournal.com/620853.html) for the prompt "mommy issues". Title from Moon and Moon by Bat For Lashes.

Even when Cordelia closed her eyes, she could still see. See the things in her head, the things she couldn’t make go away. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the eyes had to have come from someone. Two someones, a brown eyed girl and a blue eyed boy or perhaps the other way around. She didn’t want to know. But she did know. Deep down she knew what Myrtle had done. Myrtle had killed for her. Killed the council for her. It should have shocked and disgusted her, made her want to rip her eyes out but it didn’t. It should have left her feeling cold but she didn’t. She felt warm and protected and she _shouldn’t_ but she did. Cordelia shook her head in the pitch black of her room, even though there was nobody to see her reprimanding herself. She would drive herself mad with thoughts like that.

Forcing her mind to be quiet, a tentative sleep finally came to Cordelia. It left her tossing and turning and catching snippets of dreams she couldn’t quite make stick but still left her with an overwhelming sense of dread when she woke again, barely a few hours later.

Unable to shake the feeling, she pulled herself out of bed and tiptoed to the mirror, staring into the eyes that weren’t really hers yet feeling responsible for them all the same. If she’d had a nightmare, like a normal person, she could have brushed it aside. But that wasn’t it. She wasn’t even sure it had been a dream. More a memory. A memory of Myrtle that wasn’t hers. She had to see her.

Creeping down the halls, feeling almost like a burglar in her own house, she made her way to Myrtle’s door, tapping lightly enough to get her attention if she was awake still but not to rouse her from much needed sleep if she wasn’t.

“Come in, dear,” Myrtle’s voice called back from the other side of the door, warm and inviting but still Cordelia hesitated. “Cordelia, darling, are you alright?”

Cordelia gently pushed the door open, slipping inside like a ghost in her white nightdress. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

“Not at all, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Myrtle patted the bed beside her and Cordelia sat. “What is it, dear?”

Cordelia swallowed. She should be angry, upset at the very least. Myrtle had brought murder into her house but in her life, that was just on par for the course. All she felt was tired.

“It is ok if I just...” Cordelia trailed off, unable to ask. She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. She’d never had anyone teach her how; teach her she could ask for comfort.

“Of course you can,” Myrtle stroked over her lap, smoothing the sheet down for Cordelia to lay her head against. “It’s been quite a time for you and your girls lately. You especially, looking after them all when that task should fall on... other shoulders.”

“I don’t want to talk about Fiona,” Cordelia said, burying her face further into Myrtle’s lap, jumping when she felt a soft hand stroke her hair back. She couldn’t make herself talk about what she had come to talk about, not like this.

“Of course not, coming back after all this time only to abandon you again,” Myrtle shook her head, stroking more fervently over Cordelia’s hair, almost like she wasn’t aware of her actions, she was so caught up in her words. “It’s not right, my darling. It’s simply not fair.”

“Fiona will do what she wants, she always has,” Cordelia said dismissively.

“That’s not a fitting attitude to take, not as a Supreme,” Myrtle paused, stilling her hand and tilting Cordelia’s face up. “Much less as a mother.”

“Well, she’s never exactly been one of those, has she?” Cordelia asked, unable to keep the tinge of bitterness from her voice. She didn’t care, honestly she didn’t but some nights, some nights maybe she did just a little bit. Not that she could admit that out loud. Not when others were killing _for her_ , to protect her coven and her own mother, their own supreme was doing God knows what but nothing good, that was for sure.

“More’s the pity, you are a sweet and kind girl, any mother would be proud of you,” Myrtle said, blinking down at her in that way she had, that seemed to see straight through everything else while speaking the unspeakable.

Cordelia smiled up at her, every other thought melting away, clinging onto that one notion. “Why didn’t you ever have children?”

“I had you, darling,” Myrtle answered quickly, tucking her arm under Cordelia’s back and pulling her closer into her chest. “You were always more than enough.”

“Am I?” Cordelia asked. “Did you not want a proper baby? One that you could rock in your arms, feed yourself, sing to sleep?”

“You can’t remember, dear, but I did do all of that with you, when you were just a tiny little thing, crying out for love and care and attention a little bit quieter than you are now.”

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia said quickly, any acknowledgement of needing anything feeling like a weakness to her. Even though she could open her arms to anyone and offer them the comfort they needed, she couldn’t ask for any herself.

“Don’t be,” Myrtle assured her, wrapping both arms around her to keep her from rising. “I’d like to look after you like that again, if it would make you feel better.”

Cordelia hesitated, so warm and sheltered by Myrtle’s arms, so comfortable with her cheek nuzzled against her breast. It was so hard to deny it was what she needed on a night like this. “Please, Myrtle.”

Myrtle rocked her gently back and forth, tutting. “You can call me Mommy, sweet child. I doubt Fiona ever let you.”

Cordelia shook her head, pressing herself deeper into Myrtle’s chest, letting the slow calm beat of her heart drown out all her worries and fears. She barely realized she was crying until the first labored breath struggled its way out, desperately drinking in more air to last her until the next sob.

“That’s it baby, let it all out, tell Mommy all about it,” Myrtle said soothingly, rocking her back and forth, stroking over her back.

“Is it so much to ask, really, that she looks after her coven?” Cordelia asked, reining herself back in. “That she could look after me, her daughter, perhaps? Just once.”

“I know, baby,” Myrtle crooned softly.

“We need our Supreme,” Cordelia admitted. “I don’t think I can do it on my own anymore, be a mother to... all these girls when I don’t even-”

Cordelia stopped herself short but Myrtle patted her back, giving her the silent encouragement she needed.

“How can I be a mother when I’ve don’t even know what one is?” Cordelia asked shakily, feeling guilty for brushing aside everything Myrtle had done for her, her whole life, for the sake of a title, a woman who had done nothing for her and a gnawing fear that fate was keeping her from having her own baby because of it.

“I think you know what it is to be a mother, I’ve seen the wonderful work you do with your witches,” Myrtle mused. “I think what you really want is to be a child, curled up safe in your mother’s arms, away from all the horrible things in this world.”

“It’s too late for that. I have responsibilities, I have-” Cordelia started, sitting up.

“Not tonight, you don’t,” Myrtle said, pushing down the shoulder of her nightdress. “Tonight you can be my little baby again and I can hold you and feed you and sing you to sleep, if you wish.”

Cordelia considered it a moment, considered going back to her cold empty bed and to another few restless hours of sleep. Hesitantly she lowered herself back down, nuzzling against Myrtle’s breast, silently giving her answer.

Unbuttoning her nightdress with one hand and cupping Cordelia’s head with another, Myrtle whispered an old spell, one she’d not had cause to use in decades. Cordelia hesitated again, Myrtle’s breast bared before her, making it all too real. Swallowing down her pride and her fear of rejection she pressed her lips to Myrtle’s nipple, as if checking she had understood her correctly before closing her lips around it and gently sucking.

She honestly didn’t expect anything to happen, she expected it to be more psychosomatically soothing, like a baby’s pacifier but to her surprise, she tasted milk on her tongue, thin at first but the harder she suckled, the thicker it became, sweet and creamy and oddly comforting. She drank deeply until it filled her belly, making her warm and sleepy. Pulling back, she led her head in Myrtle’s lap again, unable to think about what she’d just done or what it meant. All she could think about was Myrtle’s soft, sweet voice singing her to sleep, like she’d promised she would.

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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